Ask anyone that was apart of yearbook, Senior Goodbyes were the worst. Ignore the fact that you had to take time out of your own life to interview some graduate to-be you didn't even know, coupled with the idea that for weeks you were stuck waiting up on the parents to email in statements of encouragement, pictures and payment for their child's goodbye. It truly was the most grueling assignment of the class, and when the first batch of goodbyes were announced, a collective groan echoed across the room of high schoolers.
As a Junior, and a veteran yearbook class attendee, Anne was no exception to this surge of disappointment. Beside her, Clifton, sighed halfheartedly and smirked, knowing he was exempt from this assignment due to the previous disaster that was his last senior goodbye.
"I know, senior goodbyes are a pain, but take this as an opportunity to get out of your comfort zone. Meet someone new, get some good pictures for the book. Get your butts in gear, these are due by the end of March." Mr. Maldonado exclaimed before his students , shuffling the list of orders in his hands.
"When I call your name, come up and collect your senior. It is up to you to contact your person and set up a time for an interview. Good luck."
Mr. Maldonado sat back at his desk, as chatter arose from the dispersed class. Anne turned to Clifton, who nudged her with his elbow.
"Have fun with your senior date." He quipped sarcastically, raising an eyebrow before rising from his chair and excusing himself from the class.
Anne groaned as her name was called by Mr. Maldondo, as she marched from her seat to collect her Senior Goodbye assignment. The name was contained on a small slip of paper, labeled "Sasha Basanez" in neat print. She stared at the slip of paper for a beat, hardly able to believe her eyes. Sasha Basanez, the girl on the softball team. Scratch that, the captain of the softball team, quite possibly the most popular girl in school. Not only was she sporty and popular, the girl was also quite the intellect. Not quite on the level of genius that Anne herself was considered, but smart enough to be one of twenty highest performing students in her class. All while this was registering in Anne's mind, she hadn't moved from the front of Mr. Maldondo's desk.
"Anne," The instructor questioned, "Is there something wrong?"
"No! Ah… no, Mr. Maldondo. It's just, um, you assigned me Sasha Basanez's Senior Goodbye, I'm not sure I'd be able to, ah…." How do you explain you can't interview someone way out of your league to your high school yearbook instructor?
Mr. Maldondo waited in silence for Anne to explain herself, looking exasperated, and from the tired look in his eyes, she could tell her attempt to switch Goodbyes wasn't going to fly.
Gripping the small piece in paper in her palm, Anne shook her head, and exclaimed, "You know what, never mind. I'll figure it out." And returned to her seat.
Quietly, Anne turned on the computer that was placed at her desk, and got to work. Despite the grapevine knowledge she knew of Sasha, she didn't exactly have a face to the name. She didn't pay any attention to the softball team, much less any sports teams that were played at the school.
Once the computer finally glowed to life on the monitor, Anne opened a tab on the school's information files, an exclusive perk of being in yearbook, and typed in Sasha's name to find her classes schedule. Anne couldn't believe her eyes upon seeing nearly all of Sasha's schedule jam packed with classes, save for a late arrival and a study hall right after. Most seniors opted for the minimal amount of classes during their final year, not the smartest move in the long run, but convenient in the present moment. Yet, here she was with Pre-Calculus, English 12 Honors, Physics AND Chemistry, along with an Economics class, just to name a few.
Anne sat back in her chair, slightly impressed. Sure, she had already taken Pre-Calculus, and received a majority of her credits to graduate during her Sophomore year, but she had to hand it to Sasha, the girl was no slacker. Anne ran a hand through her hair, and looked up at the clock located at the front of the classroom. It was a quarter until the bell for third period rang, giving Anne plenty of time to walk down to the library where study hall was located. If she left now, she could attempt to find Sasha and set up a time for an interview. Might as well get it over with, thought Anne as she began to collect her things and place them into her bag. Finally, she snagged her camera and stood to excuse herself.
Once she was out in the hallway, Anne found Clifton hanging out on the stairs landing, taking a swig from a water bottle that obviously did not have a drop of water in it.
"Whatcha got there?" Anne teased, as she approached.
"Try it for yourself." Clifton offered, handing the bottle over to her.
The fumes from the cheap wine filled her senses as she grabbed the bottle and took a drink.
"You better be careful with that thing, I could smell it from halfway down the hall."
"Relax, it's two buck chuck, not weed."
"Whatever you say, Cliff." Anne said, handing the bottle back to Clifton. As she began descending the steps, she heard Clifton call, " We still on for after school today?"
"When are we not?"
She could almost hear Clifton shrug when he replied, "Good Point. See you by the gate." The gate he was referring to was the typical meetup location just behind the soccer field, where the two of them would meet and walk home together.
"Make good choices!" Anne called back, and resumed down the steps.
Despite the fact Clifton and her were best friends, Cliff had the tendency to do stupid things. While this wasn't uncommon for most teenagers, Clifton, on more than one occasion has been busted for drinking on campus. Not that he cared much, he just sat through his session with the guidance counsellor, and half an hour later, he was released, sans-water bottle filled with cheap wine.
Walking down three flights of stairs, Anne made her way towards the double doors where the library resided. Taking a glance inside the small window on the door, Anne could see that study hall was in full swing, with a handful of kids sitting at the large wooden tables, hunched over textbooks, laptops or some combination of the two. Taking a moment to compose herself, Anne stepped back to turn the handle and enter the library. As would be expected, the library was bathed in complete silence. Anne turned to the librarian, perched in the corner behind a pile of books under a No Cellphones sign. The older women took no notice of her, as ironically, she was silently typing on her phone.
"Excuse me?" Anne inquired towards the woman, leaning over the small mountain of books.
The librarian looked up from her computer, but remained silent.
Anne continued, "Do you know where I could find Sasha Basanez? It's for, uh, yearbook business." She motioned towards her camera her emphasis.
The woman slowly raised a hand and pointed towards the back of the room, where the old encyclopedias were stashed.
"Ah, thanks." Anne awkwardly thanked the librarian and made her way over to the encyclopedias.
As she walked over, she came across a girl sat at a desk, and appeared sound asleep over her small stack of textbooks. I figured that this girl must be Sasha Basanez, as the large bag of baseball bats sat next to her feet on the floor along with her regular school bag. Figures, Anne thought quietly to herself, all the activities have to catch up with you at some point. She couldn't help but feel somewhat sorry for the girl as she noticed the bags present underneath her eyes despite the obvious attempt she made to cover them up with makeup. While lost in thought, Anne was pulled back to reality as Sasha let out a soft snore and fidgeted slightly in her sleep.
Right, Anne thought back to her original purpose for meeting with Sasha in the first place. Yearbook, Senior Goodbye, interview, focus Anne, focus.
The thought also occurred to her at that moment that she would have to wake up Sasha to work out the details. Great.
So, as lightly as she could manage, Anne slowly held up her hand to tap her on the shoulder. Although, it appears as though Sasha must've felt her eyes on her, as she quickly burst from her slumber just as Anne was about to wake her.